One Day You’ll Find That I’m Right
by daffywriter
Summary: He said those words to her just before he left her behind forever. She had never understood what he meant—until a train ride with someone most unexpected changed her life.


One Day You'll Find That I'm Right

_He said those words to her just before he left her behind forever. She had never understood what he meant—until a train ride with someone most unexpected changed her life._

The young woman sat alone on the double seat on the train. She was on her way to St. Anthony, Minnesota to visit her father who recently remarried and settled there with his new wife. She missed him dearly, and had never dreamed he would be the one to marry and move away instead of her. Still, she was happy for him.

Just as the young woman was thinking she would be sitting alone for the train ride, a woman, perhaps twenty years older than her came charging down the aisle carrying a small travel bag and a purse. The conductor walked behind her carrying a suitcase

"Honestly!" the woman exclaimed, "I'll be complaining to your superiors about this! Imagine _me_ stuck in coach."

"Look Ma'am," said the conductor clenching his jaw. "I'm sorry, but sometimes these things happen. Think of the money you'll save this way."

The older woman sat down next to the younger woman as the conductor put her bags overhead. "Humph!" she muttered as the conductor walked away. The younger woman disliked the way the older woman talked to the conductor. _Perhaps she's just had a bad morning, _the younger woman thought. _A friendly conversation with a stranger will cheer her right up._

"Good mornin' to ya," said the younger woman.

"Eh," the older woman muttered. "There's nothing good about it."

"Oh now it can't that be that bad. It's a lovely day for a train ride. We can look out the window and watch the scenery go by."

"I could have done that from my _private _room," said the older woman. "You see, I booked a first class ticket, but the railroad overbooked. Since I was the last one to book first class for this trip, I was bumped down to coach." The woman smoothed the skirt of her red and green travel dress.

"A private car seems like it'd be pretty lonely," said the younger woman smiling brightly. "Out here there'll be plenty of people to talk to while you make your trip."

The older woman sneered. "If I had wanted to be cramped like common cattle, I would have booked a coach seat in the first place."

The younger woman's lips set in a firm line and she turned to look out the window as the train rolled away. A little while later, she turned to look back at the older woman, who had removed her black silk gloves and was knitting. Judging by the jewelry the older woman wore and the way she was attired, the older woman lived quite comfortably. The younger woman tucked a stray wisp of red hair behind her ear and decided to try again.

"So, where are ya goin'?" she asked.

The older woman wasn't in the mood for conversation, but decided to humor the younger woman. She didn't look up from her knitting. "To Minneapolis. I'm going on my yearly trip to order goods for my store." Her brow furrowed as her knitting needles got tangled.

"Oh, so ya own your own business," said the younger woman. "So do I."

The older woman turned to make eye contact with the younger for the first time. "Oh really?" she said, actually somewhat interested.

"Yah I run a room and board," said the younger woman.

The older woman smirked. "I see. Well, _I_ own a restaurant-hotel, in addition to my store." She chuckled glad that she had outdone the younger woman.

"_Two _businesses," said the younger woman. "That's impressive."

"I know it is," said the older woman.

The younger woman did not find the older woman to be very humble. She turned and quietly looked out the window again.

But the older woman was on a roll now. "Yes, my husband and I are quite successful. Of course, that's mostly thanks to me-"

"So you're married," said the younger woman. "Do ya have any children?"

"Three," said the older. "A beautiful daughter who lives in New York City with her husband and my two grandchildren. A son, and another daughter, my precious baby girl."

"You're very fortunate," said the younger woman.

"Are _you_ married?" said the older one.

"No," said the younger one looking down sadly. "There was a man once who I thought- well never mind." She looked away.

The older woman arched an eyebrow, a tinge of sympathy touching her face. "Well don't be too disappointed, dear. We shouldn't always marry the first man who comes along. After all think where your life might be if you had married the wrong man. You don't want just any man to share in the profits of your business do you?"

The younger woman huffed angrily. "He wasn't interested in my money," she said sharply. "Besides, it's not like my boarding house made me wealthy or anythin'."

The older woman shrugged and went back to her knitting. The younger woman pulled out a book of poetry by Oscar Wilde. She immersed herself in the fine words written by an Irishman.

A while later, after the two women had eaten some sandwiches that had been served to them, it was the older woman, bored with her knitting, who started the conversation up again.

"So, where are you from?"

"Tracy," said the younger.

"Oh," the older woman nodded. "I'm from Walnut Grove."

"I've heard it's a lovely town," said the younger.

"_Lovely_," the older woman tittered. "It's practically non-existent. If it weren't for my businesses, the town wouldn't even merit a place on the map of Minnesota," she laughed loudly, causing some of the other passengers to stare.

Once again the younger woman was off-put by the elitist attitude of the older woman. While she had seen _some_ glimpses of pleasantries in the older woman, she decided that those were not enough, and this was not a woman she wished to continue having a conversation with. The two did not exchange another word.

As the train was rolling to a stop in Minneapolis some time later, the conductor approached the seat of the two women.

"Mrs. Oleson," he said to the older woman. The younger woman gasped and looked up sharply. "I have some good news. One of my passengers in the sleeping car has just informed us that he is cancelling his return trip. We will be able to accommodate you in first class when you return to Springfield."

"Well thank God for that!" the older woman declared and she pulled her bags from overhead nearing decapitating the conductor in the process. Without so much as a glance at her seat partner, she walked off the train.

Molly Reardon shut her book and stared out the exit in shock. _Oleson_. It was a common last name, to be sure, but the woman had mentioned she was from Walnut Grove, town of less than 200 people. Two years ago a man named Nels Oleson had come into Molly's life. He had told her Walnut Grove was his "home base". She had fallen in love with him, and had been heartbroken to learn he was already married.

_But that woman, just couldn't be his wife she just couldn't!_ Molly thought. How could a sweet man like Nels be married to such a rude and snobbish woman? Molly knew he must have been having trouble in his marriage to lie about it in the first place. But she never _dreamed…_

A realization hit Molly then: maybe she didn't know Nels as well as she thought she had. How could she when _that_ was the woman he not only married, but had three children with? And from her conversation with Mrs. Oleson, she knew that he had gone back to his wife. Molly thought back to all the talks she and Nels had had. They had talked about cooking, shared jokes, talked about his emporium and her boarding house customers, but how far had their conversations really gone beyond that? She had been ready for Nels to ask her father for her hand, and she didn't even know if he had any siblings, or if he had been born in Minnesota.

In some ways. her brief conversation with Mrs. Oleson had been more personal.

"Last call to board, last call!" came the conductor's voice. Molly realized that she had better get off the train.

Molly had about ninety minutes before the stagecoach left for St. Anthony. She sat on a bench at the train station continuing her thoughts. She couldn't wrap her mind around it: how could a man like Nels marry someone like that? _Maybe she hadn't always been that way, _Molly thought. _Maybe she was a kinder woman when she and Nels married_. But something told Molly that wasn't true; there was something about the way Mrs. Oleson's personality came across, it fit her as well as one of her silk gloves. _No, _Molly reasoned, _Mrs. Oleson has always been that way, or at least as long as Nels has known her._

So why were they married? What did he see in her? Molly wondered. Surely the two of them did not see eye-to-eye on many subjects. Surely they argued often.

Molly wondered: what that was it was to love someone? To be at odds sometimes? This Mrs. Oleson must have bought out something in Nels that Molly couldn't. Molly was sure his wife tried his patience, but some part of him must have enjoyed the challenge. Molly and Nels had never disagreed on anything.

It was time to stop making excuses for Nels Oleson. He _was _a cad to lie to her about not being married, and she was hurt. Yet over these last two years she had pined for him and excused his actins because she believed that they shared a genuine love, and would have married if he had been unattached. Now, indeed the words of Mrs. Oleson were coming back to her: _We shouldn't always marry the first man who comes along_. Molly had had suitors, but none as special as Nels, at least he _had been _special up until about thirty minutes ago.

_I didn't really know you at all, Nels Oleson_ she thought quietly. _I thought we were in love, but after meeting your wife, I don't think I even understand what love is anyone._

Love, Molly reasoned, must have been a deeper thing than she thought it did. Sharing a few Irish jigs and some laughs with Nels wasn't enough: there had to be more to it. Molly didn't know Nels as well as she thought, but she knew he wouldn't marry someone for her money. He had to marry his wife because he loved her. Somehow he saw something special enough in her to marry her.

Molly really hadn't seen into the very heart of Nels. She had seen a kindly older man who needed some attention, but had failed to see beyond that or else she would have seen that her attentions to him only provided temporary relief from some marital conflict.

Molly checked her watch. _Good_. She had about an hour left. She reached into her suitcase, dug around for a bit, and pulled out a jewelry box. She opened it up and looked at the cameo inside. _What a fool you were, Molly Reardon, _she said shaking her head.

Molly went to ask the man at the ticket counter a question, and walked out to the streets of Minneapolis.

Molly entered a shop a few blocks away and went up to the shopkeeper.

"I'd like to sell this if you don't mind" she said.

He took the box and looked at the cameo closely. "It sure is pretty," he said. "You must be hard up for cash to sell such a fine cameo."

"Not exactly," said Molly.

The man smiled. "Oh I've got it. It's a gift from an old beau of yours and now that you two aren't together, you're selling it!"

"I wouldn't even call him that," said Molly softly. "He said himself he was just a silly old man."

The man crocked an eyebrow as he paid her for the cameo. "You have a good day," he said.

Molly walked out of the pawn shop purposefully. Next she headed towards the nearest church. She knocked on the door.

A Reverend answered. "Yes?" he asked.

"I would like to make a donation," she said holing out the silver coins.

"Oh!" said the Revered surprised "That is very generous of you. Would you like me to enter your name in the registry?"

"Oh no," she said. "I would like to keep it anonymous," she finished.

"Bless you," he said.

Molly walked back towards the train station, where the stagecoach for St. Anthony would arrive. She had somewhere to go and a father to meet.

A year later, Molly would marry. She found a man who challenged her to think about herself in new ways, in turn she, too, made him want to be a better person. They argued occasionally, but that only served to make their bond stronger. They paid attention to each other, but they did not dote on one another. They accepted each others' flaws instead of ignoring them. In short Molly had found a true partner, not a man to put on a pedestal.

As her wedding day approached, Molly thought of Nels Oleson once, but only very briefly. "_I don't think what you feel for me is the same as what a wife feels for her husband_," he had told her in their last moments together. At the time she had disagreed, but he had continued "_I think one day, you'll find that I'm right."_

And he was.

*Note: Some dialogue was taken from the episode "Second Spring".


End file.
